Not Sure When
by under.the.bridge.downtown
Summary: Tsubaki's not sure when she fell in love with him...


Tsubaki wonders when the admiration and respect she had always held for her meister molded together with love and desire. It had bloomed so silently and without her permission; much the like blossom for which she is named. When her back was turned, the flower had budded and grown, quietly and patiently waiting for her to notice its presence within the shadows. As she tries to pinpoint the exact moment she went from fearful and doting mother-figure to a growing boy into giggling, blushing schoolgirl with a now maturing young man, she has trouble nailing down an exact time or event that triggered the change.

She thinks it might have happened the first time she was seriously injured in battle and she saw actual fear for her safety in his eyes. Black Star had never needed her to protect him. Not in the way Soul always felt compelled to do with his meister, throwing his body into the line of fire without a thought. He used to chastise her whenever she tried, "You're a weapon, not a shield Tsubaki. Don't insult my greatness by trying to be otherwise." He would insist. She would nod and apologize, "Of course Black Star is right. It was foolish of me to attempt."

The one time he hadn't been quick enough, ended up being the only time. He made sure of it.

She had spotted the butcher's cleaver milliseconds before he had, barely enough time for her to shift from his hand and fold into smoke bomb mode. Instinctively she had pushed him back behind her, away from the demon so they could regroup and rethink their strategy. But the thick blade had come down blindly, embedding into her right shoulder and ricocheting off of the bone. She had wailed when the bloodied steal was ripped away from her mangled body, dripping red onto the butcher's pristine white smock. Everything in her was screaming to change back into the safety of her weapon form, but when she tried the injury halted the process and had left her in an awkward mess of metal, flesh and bone.

She hadn't even realized he'd gotten to her by the time everything caught up again. She blinked and he had her safely tucked away behind a dumpster in some random back alleyway. He was already ripping at the bottom of her dress, tearing at the material with his teeth and forcing the hanging chunks of skin closed before packing everything together and using his scarf to tie the soaked, makeshift bandage down. Blood was dripping down her arm and onto the wet pavement, making her skin slick and dirty. Black Star had somehow managed to get some on his shoes, the white smudged with dark brown. She remembers thinking that looked so wrong, the large star imprint on the toe covered up and dirtied. The loss made her vision hazy, black creeping in around the edges but she had tried to stand anyway. She had to get back up, had to keep fighting. Black Star wouldn't let something like this stop him. Black Star would _stand up_. Her technician had forced her back down with barely any effort, careful to avoid her injury.

"You wait here Tsubaki," his voice mixed with the ringing in her ears. "I'll be right back."

She's not sure what happened after that, but 13 seconds later he was back just as he'd promised and lifting her into his arms. She'd known because she had counted in a pitiful attempt to keep her eyes open. They must have made an awkward looking pair, him having still been shorter than her back then by a several of inches. Her boots had scrapped at his knees and her chin had rested uncomfortably on top of his head. But he'd been strong, even as a child and had carried her all the way to the hospital where she could be airlifted back to Death City. When she'd woken up in familiar the white room three days later, blue hair and obnoxiously loud snores had been there to greet her. The faint glow of a kishin soul reflected off of the side of his face, the grotesque orb floating peacefully above his open palm. He must have been saving it for her, she thought. While she knew Black Star was powerful enough to not necessarily _need _her to fight his battles, he wanted her to and that was enough to silence her doubts.

It may have been sometime after Mifune's death, when his eyes had stayed dry but she had cried more than enough for the both of them. Black Star had silently sat beside her against the kitchen wall, not saying anything, not touching her or comforting her, just gently reaching out with his soul to give his grief and guilt to her so she could expel it for him. After what felt like hours of her sobbing and rocking, he had nodded and said something along the lines of, "if Black Star is the night sky and Tsubaki is the stars, then Angela will be our sun." under his breath before jumping up and storming into the bathroom. She had heard him arguing with Lord Death, trying to persuade him to let the little witch live with them. The Death God had talked him out of that, seeing as their apartment only had one room, but he did allow them to have Angela every weekend from then on.

It could have happened at any point. In class when she would begin to lose focus and Black Star, appearing to be asleep, would nudge her leg or pinch her side and bring her back to attention.

In the streets when men would leer at her and make rude comments, he would be there with a curled fist and a terrifying threat.

At the parties they went too, when he would stay by her side because he knew she hated crowds.

In the hallways, always a step ahead of her and acting like her shield and protector. Which was so silly because she was his weapon, she was supposed to be the one protecting him.

When Maka's comments were a bit to biting or Kid's obsession with her eyes would come a too close for either of their comforts. He was there to take the spotlight away from her and let her slip comfortably back in his shadow where she felt more at ease.

At the park, when they would plan a date with Kilik and Tsubaki would pause setting up the picnic blanket to watch him chase the twins and Angela around the swing set, tossing their squealing bodies up into the air and never failing to catch them again.

It might have happened when he would call out questions to her from the living room while she prepared dinner. Because even though he may not care about their grades, she certainly did and this was the only way she could trick him into studying.

When he would fall asleep with his head in her lap and her fingers threaded through his hair, carefully moving to pull the still blaring gaming system out of his grasp and place it gently on the table but not before saving first.

At basketball games when he would go easy on her, but not the others.

When he would skip class without telling her, but keep his soul wavelength loud so she'd be able to find him quickly.

At the market when he'd carry the bags.

In the mornings when they'd train and he'd slow down so she could catch up.

His good behaviour whenever her parents called.

Any and all of these things could have flicked the switch and changed their relationship for her.

It's a Saturday and Angela has come to stay with them for the night. They had let her stay up an hour later so she could finish her game of monopoly with Black Star which, in retrospect, was probably a bad idea to let them play any sort of game that pinned them against one another. Tsubaki feared Angela had picked up Black Star's stubborn attitude and determination to succeed at everything. The little girl had won of course, but her meister had been convinced she had been cheating. Tsubaki had decided not to tell him about the extra cards she had been slipping Angela while innocently working a quilt for Harvar's birthday on the couch. She had rushed the witch to bed after that, trying to convince Black Star it was 'only a game' of which he was having none of, declaring that 'someone as great as him could not have been beaten by a little girl who couldn't even reach the cookie jar." She thought about mentioning the first few time they'd met the Witch Angela and how she had been the one to best him in battle on more than once occasion but she ended up keeping that little jab to herself.

She eventually wrestles them both into bed, Angela's up snuggling her side and Black Star already half sprawled out onto the floor. Or at least, that's where they had been a couple hours ago. Now Angela had somehow migrated across the room and into Black Star's bed, situating herself curled up on his back like a kitten with her head resting on his neck. They would both wake up sore, but she knew neither would complain.

Reaching across the gap between their beds, Tsubaki slid her hand into his and let them dangle between the two of them. She was always amazed at the change between feeling his hand in her weapon form and grasping it with her own. They were dry and calloused from years and years of hard work and dedication. When he had been younger, Black Star's hands had always been too big for his body, like a puppy that hadn't grown into its ears. But now they fit him perfectly, worn and solid and strong.

Tsubaki's not sure when she fell in love with him, but it had happened so naturally that she was sure it was right.

* * *

**I dunno, it's late and I can't sleep and I can never find enough TsuStar to satisfy me.**

**Copyright to all respective owners blah blah blah**

**Let me know if my half awake Soul Eater ramblings make any sense at all.**

**- Bridge**


End file.
